Remember
by FallenAngel41084
Summary: They were gone all of them. Harry laid in a tomb, frozen in time, left to be the hero, the one they have all forgotten. What was left of Ron's family was bruised and broken, spread to the limit. Ron left them behind in the rubble it was a weight he just c
1. Chapter 1

Remember

Chapter 1: Beautiful Disaster

Ron laid restlessly in his bed listening to the rain fall steadily outside. He waited in vain for the moment when sleep would over take his body and he would fall peacefully into a dreamless sleep, but that moment never came. His body was growing use to the long night hours, where consciousness hung somewhere between the real and unreal. It was like a drug, the midnight hour, it was a torture where the year's events played out in Ron's mind like a movie clip cut up and put back together so that nothing matched, none of the events seemed to make sense and he couldn't tell what was real anymore. They were gone all of them. Harry laid in a tomb, frozen in time, left to be the hero, the one they have all forgotten. What was left of his family was bruised and broken, spread to the limit. Ron left them behind in the rubble; it was a weight he just couldn't bare to carry. Shame was etched into the lines of his face; he was a coward, a coward who ran away when he was most needed. The worst of it all was not the look on his mother's face when he left or the cold embrace. It was not, knowing that in someway he had failed, that he was nothing more than the scared little boy he had thought he had left behind. It was the sound of Hermione's voice as she fought back the tears; it was the pain he had known he caused her. It was turning his back on her, turning his back on the only love he would ever know and knowing he would never be whole again.

He could see her bushy brown hair; feel the softness of it under his finger tips. He could see the contours of her face; see the way it aged in such a short time. Her laugh echoed in his ears bringing tears to his eyes. He wondered if she still laughed, if she still got angry, if some part of her still held the passion in her that defined her that made her Hermione Granger. Ron wondered how it could've been so easily stolen from her, how at such a young age she could be made to feel so much pain. His body ached. The past years burned in him like a fire that would never go out. He was the living dead, he functioned on a level that would get him by, smiling to the passerby, longing for the moments when he could be alone, where he could remember, remember what exactly had killed him.

Ron didn't waste away on some suppressant or cling to a bottle, his drug of choice was his guilt, was his memory. Locked up like some caged animal, he kept everyone out. It didn't hurt as much to not care. He could go on living alone, left to face his demons, but to be in the world that surrounded him, seeing the look in their eyes, knowing he was the one who failed, well he just couldn't do it. He couldn't face them, he could not feel the love of a family that he did not deserve or worse yet feel the rejection of the only love he needed. He said his final goodbyes, set out to live a life of solitude. But in these long hours he could not help to trace the outline of her lips, to wonder yet again how they would feel against the roughness of his own.

Ron sighed trying to push out all thought. He stared blankly at the violent red letters of the clock on his bedside table, three am. In a few hours he would raise, wash away the horrors of the night and enter the bright sunlight pretending yet again to be part of the human race. He rolled onto his stomach, letting the cool breeze outside rush up his back calming his thoughts, letting his mind finally drift into sleep. The last thing Ron remembered was the depth of her chocolate brown eyes as they smiled at his own troubled emerald eyes.

Ron pushed his way through the crowded London streets ignoring the chaos around him. He felt the crowd disappear as he turned down the deserted alley that led to the bookstore he worked at. Ron reached the old tattered door and placed his hands on the cool, rough surface, taking in the feel of the wood under his hand before putting the key in the lock. Once he heard the familiar click, he pushed his way through the door inhaling deeply as he did. The bookstore was old; it smelled of cinnamon and must. The store had an appeal to it like an old attic. The books were ancient and covered in layers of dust. It was a place where Ron loved to explore, getting lost in its richness and its history for hours. Ron enjoyed working there. It was quiet and simple yet welcoming. The store was owned by a plump elderly woman named Mimi who smelled of apple pie. Her husband had past away years ago leaving her a pile of wealth and a promise that she would keep the store open. Ron was her only employee and she paid him more then she should when they were lucky if ten people a week come into the store let alone buy a book. Ron didn't mind the lack of customers. He liked being alone, lost to his own thoughts. He did enjoy the company of Mimi though. She came to the store everyday at eleven bringing Ron a small lunch and a series of humorous stories about her life and her late husband.

Sitting at the counter, Ron stared blankly at the book in font of him; the old grandfather clock on the back wall chimed eleven o'clock, startling Ron out of his train of thought. Mimi would be there any minute. Ron sighed heavily, he was not up for company at the moment, his mind was too busy going over the dream he had the night before. She lay in his arms, her hand tracing the waist of his pants. He could feel her grin pressed against his chest as she slipped her hands under his shirt running them over his stomach and up his chest. He felt his body stir under her touch, felt the heat coming from her finger tips. She felt so good against his skin. She moved her hand back down his chest, over his stomach, lingering only for a moment at the rim of his jeans before slipping her hand under the rough fabric. A shiver ran through him as she moved her hand upon his body. Hermione lifted her head from Ron's chest and placed her lips gently against his. The kiss was feather light but it was enough to keep Ron in a dizzy state. His whole body tingled. Hermione smiled against his lips. Ron felt drunk with the effect of her. He had dreamt about her kiss for too long and it felt better than he could have ever imagined; to have her in his arms was a happiness he did not deserve.

Hermione moved from Ron's lips kissing a tiny trail along his jaw line up to his ear. She exhaled a stream of air into his ear causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on edge. Ron bit down on his lower lip trying to suppress the urge to move, to laugh. He was lost in a wave of ecstasy drifting sweetly into the life he longed for when it happened. At first it was a distant sound, Ron strained to hear it but slowly the sound became clear. Ron jumped up pushing Hermione off of him. His body went cold. He looked down at Hermione to see her sprawled out on the floor face down not moving. Ron gasped; a chill ran through him causing him to turn ice cold. He reached down touch her when a pain so terrible shot through him causing him to fall to the ground next to Hermione. Laughter filled the room; it was so loud his ears began to bleed. Ron tried to scream out but no sound came from his lips. He felt like he was dying. He felt a hand grab his and when he turned to look he saw Hermione, blood pouring from the corners of her lips, laughing. He stared at her in shock; he didn't understand why she was laughing, why it was so loud. He just wanted it to stop. His body felt like it was being ripped into a thousand pieces. And then he heard it again and the laughter stopped only to be filled by a single word. Hermione stared at him, eyes wild screaming the only word that could make his heart stop, make his blood run cold, MURDER!

Ron woke with a start, the memory of his dream fresh in his mind. He had not been able to sleep the rest of the night. The guilt he had been suppressing for months was rushing to the surface threatening to take over. It was hours later and in the emptiness of the bookstore he still could not escape the dream.

Closing his book, Ron sighed with frustration. It was not like him to dwell on such petty things as dreams. He ran his hands through his thick red hair, trying desperately to push the dream and his past from his mind. His body ached. He was growing restless of London, with its crowded streets and sea of unfamiliar faces. It could no longer contain him, hide his guilt. Ron needed to get away, to flee once again, but he was too afraid. He was afraid that the world, wizarding and muggle, was too small and he would never truly be able to escape.

A loud grumbling sound emitted from Ron's stomach, reminding him of the passing time. He glanced at the clock again, it was nearly twelve o'clock. Getting up from his chair, Ron stretch is aching body. He felt everything crack; his body protested the change in position. Ron ignored the dull ache in his legs and walked to the back room. Mimi was rarely ever late and Ron was getting nervous. He picked up the phone that hung on the wall next to the small bathroom in the back room. He punched in Mimi's home number without glancing at the phone and waited. After five or six rings Mimi's bubbly recorded voice filled Ron's ear asking him to be a dear and leave a message. He hung up the phone once again frustrated and walked into the bathroom.

Ron turned on the faucet. Cupping his hands under the running water, he brought his hands to his face, splashing the cool water over it. He felt the coolness of the water as it ran down his face. He breathed in deeply, trying to control his emotions. He glanced into the dirty mirror above the sink. His face was covered in tiny water droplets. He ignored the water and stared deeply into the blues of his eyes. They looked tired, not quite as bright as normal. His face was etched with lines that should not yet be there. His innocence lost, his heart filled with a despair no person should have to know, Ron looked older than his twenty two years. Everything about him screamed of experience, of a pain that he should not know. His tall frame was covered in lean, hard muscle that ached from exertion. His smile was weak. His walk was uninviting. His hair fell messy into his eyes. The clothes he wore were always simple, nothing to draw attention to him. Today he had on a long sleeve v-neck white shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans that were neither too tight nor too loose, but hang nicely on his frame.

Ron was cautious of every action he made, every word that escaped his mouth, of every piece of clothing he put on. He tired to blend in, to disappear. He wanted nothing to give away his real identity, to link him to his past. It was easier in the muggle world to fade away but every now and then someone would glance his way, a hint of recognition on their face. Ron's heart would skip a beat and the need to flee became over whelming but it never amounted to anything. The person would look away, never saying a word to him. In the year Ron had been gone, he had been lucky. None of his family had come looking for him and he had not run into a familiar face. He knew his time was running out. It had been over a year and someone was bound to find him.

The click of the front door followed by Mimi's warm voice startled Ron out of his train of thought. Placing what he hoped was a warm smile on his face, Ron headed out to the front of the store.

"Ron love, be a dear and come out here. I've got the most delightful girl out here that you must meet", Mimi's voiced shouted out to Ron.

Ron sighed heavily to himself. This was not the first time Mimi had some "delightful" girl for him to meet. Ron walked around the rows of bookshelves trying to think of a believable excuse to why he couldn't possibly go out. He always felt sorry for the poor girl. It wasn't her fault; she was just the victim of a bored elderly lady and a broken man. Ron couldn't bare the thought of dating anyone, let alone actually trying to be close to someone. There was just too much he couldn't let go of, too much he couldn't reveal about himself.

He turned the final corner, scrambling for an excuse when I familiar voice screamed out his name. His heart stopped as he looked up into her deep coffee brown eyes.

"Hermione?" Ron whispered breathlessly.

_Author's note: I will try to write longer chapters after this one. I will hopefully be posting a chapter every week but I can't promise anything. This story takes place about four years after the 7th book. Yes I killed Harry off, sad I know but it ties into my plot. I hope you like the story. Also I am going on winter break for school so I probably will not be posting for awhile. _


	2. Chapter 2

Remember

Chapter 2: Come Undone

Ron barely had time to react before Hermione wrapped her arms around him. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, but relaxed as it recalled the familiar touch. For a moment Ron let himself get lost in the embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to his chest. His body rejoiced at the warmth and he longed to stay there forever. The sweet floral scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. Ron breathed in deeply, the scent, her scent, filled him with a comfort he had long ago forgotten.

For a moment Ron almost abandoned the events of the past year and let the happiness of the embrace overtake him. His eyelids began to fall close in contentment, but the past flashed painful images. His body tensed and Ron knew he would never be able to let it go. He unwrapped himself from Hermione and pushed her gently away.

His voice was filled with sorrow as he struggled to speak.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." She said puzzled

Ron shifted uncomfortably. He had been hoping that she was in London on holiday with some friends or a bloody bloke. That it had been a coincidence that she had found him, but this, he sighed, was exactly the reason he knew she was here. It would be so much harder to ask her to leave knowing that he was the only reason she was here.

He focused on the floor as he spoke. It was the safest place. Her face distracted him, made him feel things he knew he shouldn't feel.

"Why did you come looking for me? I told you when I left not to."

Hermione's voice was quiet as she responded. Ron had to lean towards her to hear.

"Your mum asked me too. I wasn't going to at first. I thought that if you were so bloody determined to leave then fine, what did I care? But she was so desperate. It was hard after everything she lost, you lost, to sit there and pretend she wasn't a wreck over you. I left a week ago and came to London. Fred and George wanted to come along, but I thought it would be best if I came alone. I had hoped that you would at least be happy to see me." Hermione paused, hesitant to continue. "It's been hard you know, with Ginny and Harry gone. I have no one. I've… I've missed you."

Hermione's voice broke on the last part; silent tears slid down her face. She didn't even pretend to wipe them away. She just let them fall. Ron's heart broke at the sight and before he realized what he was doing her pulled her back into his arms.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know." He whispered into her hair.

Hermione looked up at the sound of his voice. Her eyes were wide as his words sunk in. She stared at him for a long time, searching his eyes for something to reassure her now unbalanced thoughts. The depth of his gaze left her swirling. A million questions, thoughts flowed through her disoriented mind, but only one broke through the barriers of her lips.

"Ron", she spoke softly, dropping her gaze to his chest, "Come home with me?"

Ron pushed Hermione abruptly away, breaking their embrace. His body fought the urge to bring her back into the warmth of his arms. He walked quickly to the front of the store, running his hands through his hair frustrated. This was not what he wanted. Hermione was stirring emotions in him that he had fought so hard to conceal. He longed to go home, every muscle in his body ached from the need. As each day passed it only grow more excruciating to bear. He wanted the comfort of home, the warmth of it. He missed the cramped clutter of the Burrow and the noise that filled its rooms, never ceasing. He craved the company of a family that filtered through every room. To see his mother in the kitchen, to taste her food again, would be heaven. He was even willing to deal with George and Fred blowing up his stuff. Just to see their faces, to hear their voices would be enough, and Ginny…

Ron choked on a sob as his eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away quickly, angry with himself. Who was he kidding? He sought after something that did not exist. They were just memories of a life he could no longer have. The burrow was not the same as he remembered it because his family was not the same. It was broken, missing a piece that could neither be found nor replaced. Ginny was dead, a fault that was all his own. Ron could not go back. His family was lost to him just as Ginny and Harry were. He had no home, nowhere he could go. All that was left were his memories, dear and precious.

Ron turned around, his eyes quickly scanned the room, noting that Mimi had discreetly disappeared into the backroom. His eyes landed cautiously on Hermione's face. She stood warily a couple of feet in front of him. The tears had dried, leaving shinny streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes were still red, puffy. Ron was surprised by her raw display of emotion. She rarely let him see her cry, her anger was the only emotion she bestowed upon him. He was tentative as he spoke, not wanting to cause her any more pain or to ignite her anger.

He inhaled deeply before speaking. "Hermione, I can't go home, not with you, not with anyone. I left with the intentions of never going back and I mean to keep those intentions. Please, do try to understand. London is my home now. The Burrow, the Wizarding world is not were I belong. I wish nothing more than to forget my old life and more on."

Ron painfully watched as the hurt from his words registered across her face.

Hermione's eyes were incredulous. She couldn't understand what he was saying. She refused to believe that he would want to forget his family, to forget her. The thought alone took her breath away. Hermione struggled not to double over in pain. She had spent a week searching for him, never mind all the sleepless nights and tears she cried. Tears she shed not for the loss of two very dear friends, but for a lover she would never find, enjoy. Yet here he was, alive and well. Anger quickly replaced the joy she had felt upon seeing him. It was not fair that he should be living so well while the rest of his family mourned his disappearance. She felt absurd, foolish for having wasted so much time caring about, loving, someone who could so easily forget her. Hermione was not some stupid little girl, but here she was foolishly letting some scared, selfish _boy_ get the best of her. Furious couldn't even begin to describe what she felt when she looked at the man, no _boy_ standing before her.

Ron stepped back, as the pain on Hermione's face was replaced by an anger he knew all too well, bracing himself against her words.

"Ronald Weasley, you selfish little pratt!" Hermione screamed across the store, "Fine go ahead then, stay here with your new life. What do I care anyways? We'd be better off without you. God, I'm glad I found you. I almost forgot how selfish you really are! You don't even care what your family's been through or how much they have given up for you. You are no better than Percy. It's utterly heartbreaking to know that the WRONG Weasley died in the war. I wish I never met you!"

Hermione stormed out of the store, pushing past Ron before he could see the tears fall.

Ron stood motionless, his mind unable to wrap around her words, her actions. Of course he knew that the wrong Weasley had died. It should have been him, not Ginny that lay stiff, cold, eyes forever open, but never again seeing. That, Ron knew all too well. What he didn't understand was _how_ she could still want to be with him knowing that he should have been the one to die. For her to understand that met she knew what a failure he truly was. He could never be as great as the people surrounding him. He had just let the people he loved most die right in front of him without lifting a hand. So why, how could she still love him?

Ron knew her words, her anger were spoken out of hurt. She was hurt, no devastated that he wanted nothing to do with her. Ron couldn't understand it. He was so sure when he left that she too blamed him, that she could never love him. Standing there now though, he wasn't so sure that was the case and the thought that she could love him made him nauseous. He had to get out of the store and quick.

Ron ran to the backroom were Mimi was pretending to be lost in the thick pages of a novel. Ron could see through her façade, she detested reading.

"Mimi?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes love?" Mimi replied a little too quickly.

"I, um… I'm not feeling too good. I was wondering if I could go a little early."

"Oh of course! Please do go, I certainly don't need you here feeling all icky. I think I'll just close up early then." She said sweetly.

Ron turned to leave, but Mimi place her hand tenderly on his arm, stopping him.

"Ron dear, if you need anything please do call me. I am awfully good at caring for people."

Ron looked into her eyes for a moment, wondering desperately what she was thinking, before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Thanks Mimi. I really appreciate it."

He left after that, running the few short miles to his flat. It seemed an eternity before his key was turning in the lock. When he entered the dim entrance way of his flat he finally let his breath escape him. Falling to the floor, he finally came undone.

_Authors note: School's been hectic this semester! I will try to make longer chapters but for the most part expect them to be this length. I am not sure how often I will be able to put out a chapter but I will try not to delay for too long between them. I hope you are enjoying the story thus far! _


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